


Kisses

by Netrixie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Fluff, Frottage, It's pure fluff, M/M, Minor Ginny Bashing, Not Epilogue Compliant, Older Man/Younger Man, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Underage Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netrixie/pseuds/Netrixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a Weasley enchants a sprig of mistletoe, it stays enchanted. And so... Harry is trapped, until Snape comes along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistletoe Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Cross - posted from my FF.N, once again. This is part of the Kisses Series, which I will continue eventually. Fluffy, plotless, gratuitous Snarry because it makes me smile.

Harry huffed in annoyance, blowing air out of his mouth sharply and shifting his weight. He couldn't  _believe_  this! It was April…  _why was there enchanted mistletoe hanging from the entrance to this hallway?_ Harry had no idea. And now he was  _stuck_  here, until someone came along and freed him. It didn't help that he'd been trapped here for about a half an hour- classes had already resumed for the hour and the only people likely to be wandering the halls were teachers on their off-periods.

That, Harry admitted sourly, would probably be the best for him. At least they would- should- be able to break the Weasley-enchanted mistletoe… and not give him too much grief over being caught under it. But then they may also be inclined to assign detention for missing Care of Magical Creatures, or an essay, or some other torture. A student on the other hand… Harry groaned, and clapped a hand over his eyes.

There was no telling what a fellow student would do. Depending on who it was, he would either be free in moments or the new laughing stock for the entire school. It was a bad situation, Harry admitted, and started hoping that it was McGonagall who found him.

"I almost cannot believe my eyes," a sarcastic voice drawled from behind him, and Harry groaned, covering his eyes with both hands this time. Why… _why_ … did  _Snape_  have to find him? This was beyond embarrassing. This was almost… death-wish worthy. "Potter, if your back is presented to me for one more moment-" Harry didn't let the Professor finish his sentence before he was turning around, dropping his hands from his eyes with a sigh.

"Sorry, Professor," he muttered, looking past Snape and hoping that someone else was going to come rescue him. But no- the hallway persisted in remaining empty, much to Harry's dismay.

"Now, Potter-" the unholy glee in Snape's voice made Harry flinch, and he sighed in resignation- "how is it that you are so blind you cannot even see such an obvious trap?" The Potions Master grinned in delight. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for being so spectacularly unobservant, and another twenty for missing whatever class it is you have at the moment."

Harry didn't even bother protesting- by now, he knew that would only provoke Snape into taking more points away. "Have you nothing to say for once, Potter?" Snape inquired, brow raised as he regarded Harry.

Harry just shook his head, not wanting to get into an argument he couldn't even walk away from, and both of Snape's brows rose in mild shock. "I see you're finally learning." Harry snorted softly, and though the Professor looked miffed at the sound, he neglected to mention it. "You have ten minutes to report to your current class, Potter, before I begin taking ten points from your House per minute afterwards."

Snape turned to walk away, and Harry- desperate to be freed, enough to ask  _Snape_  for help- called out to him.

"Wait! Professor!" Snape turned with a slight frown on his face, and Harry flinched as he contemplated the results of asking for help from this man. But…

"Can you get me out of this?" Harry flinched again, harder, as Snape let out a harsh laugh.

"Foolish boy, if you cannot free yourself from it, you deserve to be caught." With another snort of laughter, Snape continued to walk away, and Harry called out after him.

"But, Professor! I've tried every spell I can think of and I can't get out!"

"Then obviously you have not tried every spell." Snape glared but walked back, eyeing the mistletoe suspiciously. "If you had," he continued, even as he poked the plant with the tip of his wand, "you would already be free."

"Well, yea obviously I'm not free so they didn't work." Harry muttered, and Snape stepped back in annoyance.

"If you wish my help, Potter, then perhaps your constant complaining should be limited." Harry glanced away, and nodded, all the ground he was willing to give at the moment. Snape glared, but returned his attention to the plant.

"I see what the issue is," he announced after a few more minutes of contemplation. Without elaborating he turned and began walking away.

"Hey!" Harry yelped at Snape's back, outraged, "What is it? You said you'd help, this is not helping!"

"Ten points for cheek, Potter, and that is a Weasley device." Harry spluttered, thoroughly pissed, and gestured expansively with his hands.

"So what if Fred and George made it? It still has to have a counter spell."

Snape locked his hands behind his back, and raised an annoyed eyebrow. "It is well known that the mistletoe those Weasley's sell is impossible to remove without the proper… method." Snape's mouth twisted in a moue of disgust, and Harry paled. This was a Slytherin- dominated hallway- their Common Room was only three hallways over, in fact, and Harry certainly did not want to beg help from any of them.

"You've got to be kidding me," he groaned, covering his eyes with his hands once more. Snape snorted his amusement and began to walk away.

"Ten minutes, Potter, no more and no less." Harry just groaned again as an idea presented itself to him, and he paled from it. But… which would he rather, he argued with himself- the entire school making a laughingstock of him (for certainly a Slytherin would never keep such a thing to herself), or begging Snape to free him and at least knowing that the Professor would never dare say a word to anyone.

"Professor-" he called out, hesitantly, and though Snape was almost far enough away to have not heard he paused. The black haired man turned to eye him over his shoulder, before his own eyes went wide as he guessed what Harry was going to say.

"No, Potter. Absolutely not."

"Professor, please! I can't have another student kis-  _free_ \- me from this!" Harry stumbled over the word, and both of them ignored his near slip of the tongue. "Please Professor,  _please_." Snape sighed, and brought a hand up to rub his temples, attempting to placate the growing migraine that this situation was giving him.

"No, Potter. And this is the last time I shall say it."

"I'll do anything!" Harry cried after him, "I'll… I'll clean cauldrons every day for a week, I'll organize your potions ingredients, I'll do anything!" Snape paused, obviously tempted by the offer, and though Harry was mildly disgusted by himself for begging to be  _kissed_ by  _Snape_ , he'd seen some of the Slytherins and he would be damned if he allowed himself to be touched by any of them.

"You'll clean cauldrons for  _three_  weeks, organize my next five shipments of potions ingredients, and turn in a four foot essay on proper situational awareness."

"Deal," Harry agreed instantly, although his elbows twinged at the thought of all that scrubbing, and his stomach twisted in knots at the dual thought of seeing the disgusting things bound to be in those shipments and the mere thought of  _kissing Snape_. His Professor sighed once more, rubbing his temples briefly before walking briskly back to where Harry was trapped.

"If you renege on our agreement, I will make your life hell." Snape said, face serious, and Harry nodded frantically. Oh, he planned on doing all they had agreed on, only to get out of here  _now_.

"I cannot believe…" Snape muttered, and Harry pretended not to hear him. The butterflies in his stomach almost drowned out the words anyway, and Harry stared up at Snape as the other man loomed over him.

The kiss was swift and light- barely more than a moment of pressure to signify that there were lips pressed against his own- and Snape was spinning around in a swirl of black robes, walking quickly away from Harry. Harry signed in relief at the speed of the kiss, cheeks flaming from having been kissed by the Potions Master. But as he tried to walk away… he couldn't. A soft sound of disbelief escaped him, and his eyes widened as he realized he was still trapped.

"Pro-" Harry's voice broke from sheer nerves, and he tried again, "Professor?" he called out softly, and Snape's rapid stride faltered as he looked over his shoulder once more. A black frown broke over the man's features, and Harry shrank into himself as Snape strode back to the trapped teen.

"Of all the foolish enchantments-" Harry heard Snape start to say, before he was pulled into the Potion Masters arms and  _kissed_. One hand was fisted in his hair, and Snape forced his tongue between Harry's lips, using his grip on the Gryffindor's hair to tilt his head to the side for better access. The man's other arm wrapped around his waist, yanking him flush against the Head of Slytherin, making Harry gasp into Snape's mouth.

Harry's hands fluttered uselessly as he was ravished, finally settling onto the taller man's shoulders and holding on for dear life. Fire flicked through his veins with each lick of Snape's tongue against his own, his eyes rolling back in his head as Snape completely overwhelmed him. The man's lips felt like burning silk against his own and Harry moaned with sudden need. Kissing Cho had never felt like this- this sudden, astounding flush of desire was wholly unexpected.

Snape flung himself away from Harry abruptly, eyes narrowed as he raked his gaze over the boy. Harry stumbled back against the wall, hands flying out to catch himself, staring incredulously at the Potions Master. He licked his lips unconsciously, and Snape's breath audibly hitched.

"Do not forget our deal, Potter." Snape ground out before turning and walking away, this time not bothering to check and see if Harry had truly been freed.

"Yup, yea, you got it…" Harry responded vaguely, and shook his head, trying to clear the sudden cobwebs from it. Tinsel began to rain down on him, and Harry sneezed as dust came with it. The mistletoe was dissolving, turning into shiny Christmas decorations that were completely out of place in April, and Harry shook his head.

"Must remind myself to talk to Fred and George about their products," Harry muttered, trying- and failing- to brush all the tinsel off of himself. "Bloody ridiculous…" he flushed again, though, and stared down the hallway Snape has disappeared into, before running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.

"I wonder if Hagrid will mind if I show up-" Harry checked the time, and winced- "fifty minutes late..." He grimaced, and shook his head. "I'll just say I was… unavoidably detained." The Gryffindor barely suppressed the wild laughter that bubbled up inside of him. That was certainly one way to put it, he supposed, and began the long walk to the Great Hall, planning on appearing just in time for lunch, and shoving his most recent escapade to the back of his mind.

That didn't mean he forgot about it, though. No, not at all.


	2. Whiskey Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of this work was because of the fact that I had Christian Kane's song "Whiskey in Mind" stuck in my head while I was writing it...

Harry stretched his arms over his head, trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders and back from so much crouching and washing. It was his last night of cauldron scrubbing- the last shipment of potion ingredients Harry had had to deal with was already passed, and the essay had been handed in before the first week had been out. Harry shrugged negligently at the thought of that essay- Hermione had helped him with the majority of it, and doubtless Snape realized that, but hadn't mentioned anything to Harry about it.

Harry just counted his lucky stars and continued with his half of the deal. At first, the endless scrubbing had only caused him aches and pains he had never felt before, but now he was rather proud of how muscled his shoulders and arms had become. Snape's insistence that magic not be used to clean cauldrons had once annoyed him, but even Harry could see where mixing magic and failed potions were explosions waiting to happen.

He sighed, though, arms still protesting this duty even three weeks in. Luckily, it was his last night doing so, and then he could forget all about the ordeal that had caused this. Harry snorted to himself, and shook his head, careful to not give into the temptation to look up at Snape. Oh, this might be the last night he was forced to be in close quarters with the Potions Master, but he sincerely doubted it would be the last night he thought of him.

He pushed his sleeves higher up his arms, briefly annoyed at the unavoidable splash of water on his shirt.

"Potter, quit fooling around and hurry up." Snape's sharp voice whipped out from behind the man's desk, and Harry jumped at the unexpected sound.

"Sorry, sir," he muttered, "I just have two left."

"So I see," was the sarcastic response, "And unless you wish to clean more, you will be quick about it."

"Yea, yea," Harry huffed, and put his back into his work once more.

"Your insolence is not appreciated, Potter," was the only response, and Harry rolled his eyes at the halfway finished cauldron he was currently bent waist-deep into.

He jerked upright at the sound of Snape's chair being shoved back, and watched in astonishment as the Potions Master left the classroom, saying as he went, "I will be one moment, Potter. If I find anything missing or ruined when I return, you may add another week to this."

"Uh, sure," was Harry's answer, although it didn't seem to matter as the door to Snape's office slammed shut behind him. He contemplated the door nervously, wondering what Snape was doing. In the three weeks he had been coming here nightly, Snape had never once left him alone with his precious potions equipment and ingredients.

"Humph," was the only thing Harry could think to say to this unexpected development, and continued with his scrubbing. Finally this cauldron was completed, and he turned to the next one, grimacing at the mess inside of it. He was halfway done with the second to last cauldron before Snape returned, and Harry very carefully did not look up at the Potions Master until he heard the man sit back in his chair.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape asked, exasperation clear in his voice, and Harry shook his head, startled.

"Nothing, sir," he said, "I just…" He trailed off at the acidic look Snape was giving him, and shrugged. "Nothing," he repeated, and once more bowed his head into the cauldron he was working on.

For a long time, there was silence, and Harry sat back with a sigh nearly forty minutes later, finally done with the last cauldron. Snape looked up at the sound, and swept down from his desk to come inspect Harry's work. The Potions Master looked over each of the six cauldrons Harry had worked on carefully; turning them this way and that to make sure they were spotless. Harry just waited, used to this treatment by now, and stood when Snape neglected to say anything about the cauldrons.

Harry grunted with the effort of lifting the heavy cauldrons- this was the only thing he didn't not agree with Snape on- how was a simple levitation charm going to harm a solid iron cauldron? But he knew better than to start that argument again. With a sigh, he began to place the rest back on the rack, and did his best to ignore the glare digging into the back of his skull. Finally he had the last one in his arms, and plopped it onto the shelf a little harder than necessary.

The cauldron slid back and caught his hand between its side and the wall, and Harry hissed a curse as he jerked his hand free. He cradled it to his chest, grimacing at the pain and eyeing the way his last two knuckles seemed to be swelling.

"Potter…" Snape trailed off with a sigh, and Harry winced as the older man walked over to him, hand stretched demandingly out in front of him. Harry eyed him warily before giving in and showing Snape the damage- only doing so because Madame Pomfrey was bound to be asleep by now and he would feel bad waking her at this hour.

"Brilliant work Potter, well done indeed." Came Snape's expected scathing comment, and Harry tried to pull his hand away, annoyed. But Snape did not let go, and Harry sighed, steeling himself for the no doubt torrent of sarcastic remarks to follow. But, surprisingly, Snape merely pointed his wand at the injury and muttered a spell under his breath that Harry could not hear. He watched in awe, though, as the swelling died down and the bruising faded.

"Thanks, Professor," he muttered, and attempted to yank his hand away once more. But again, Snape did not let go. Harry flushed immediately- The Kiss began to replay itself over and over in his mind, and he struggled to pull his hand from Snape's. But the Potions Masters grip was tight, bruising almost, and Harry gave up.

"Um, sir…?" He asked, refusing to meet Snape's eyes. "I should go. Curfew will be soon and I've already gotten enough points taken away to last the y- _mphm_."

Snape's lips crushed his, cutting off the flow of words that Harry had already forgotten about, and he moaned as the Head of Slytherin once again plundered his mouth, laying claim to it. But this time Harry- after the initial shock- was ready for it, and wrapped his arms around Snape's neck, hitching himself up against the taller man's body.

He writhed against Snape, pressing his body as close as he dared, then gasping with shock as he was shoved up against the cauldrons he had been in such close contact with for the past three weeks. Harry moaned as Snape wrapped one arm around his waist and passed the other under his left leg, hitching it up until it was wrapped around the Potions Masters waist, and Harry whimpered as he was pressed so intimately against Snape.

Snape was ruthless in his claiming, biting Harry's lips and soothing them with small licks, hand gripping his side mercilessly, no doubt leaving marks once again. But Harry hardly felt the demanding hand- his lips tingled from the mere touch of Snape's against his, and he tasted something spicy in the older man's mouth that he knew hadn't been there before.

Harry tore his mouth away from Snape for a mere moment, long enough to breathlessly ask- "Were you  _drinking_?"

Snape merely looked at him like the foolish school boy he often was, and responded, "Does it matter?" He didn't wait for a response- he reclaimed Harry's lips as they opened to speak, and the only thing the Gryffindor ended up uttering was a low moan that rumbled through both of their bodies.

Harry started getting dizzy from the liquor on his lips- no other kiss had ever had him feeling like this. He gasped as Snape left his mouth and trailed down to his neck, tilting his head to give the older man better access. Sharp teeth bit into his skin and he cried out in shock, jerking against Snape at the unexpected sensuality of the bite. Heat flared from everywhere he was touching Snape and where the Potions Masters lips were connected to his skin felt like an inferno to Harry.

His left leg tightened around the older man's surprisingly strong waist, and Harry let his head tilt back until it rested on the shelf. He stared sightless at the dark ceiling, overwhelmed with sensation. Snape left the spreading bruise on his neck to trail his lips across Harry's exposed skin, licking and nipping at the long, golden column of his throat, pressing soft kisses to the Gryffindor's jawline, and retaking his place at Harry's lips.

Snape's dark eyes were intent as they drank in the sight of Harry coming undone in his arms, and Harry's emerald eyes slid shut against the unexpected sight of pure desire. The hand not attached to Harry's waist roamed, cupping the boy's arse and measuring the length of the lean thigh wrapped around his waist.

Harry burned from all of the contact, and pushed his arse into Snape's hand in mute supplication. The Head of Slytherin hissed against his lips and gripped the boys arse hard enough to bruise. Harry moaned into Snape's mouth, and hitched himself tighter up against his Professor, demanding more, silently. Snape seemed happy to oblige, flexing his hand on Harry's arse and jerked the teen forward. Harry gasped at the contact, and shamelessly rubbed himself against the older man.

Snape, however, stilled at the Gryffindor's motions. The kiss turned slow, exploratory rather than demanding, more sensual and less of a welcome invasion. He gently coaxed Harry's leg off of his waist, and the hand that had been welded to the teen's hip rose to caress and the cup his cheek. Harry whimpered at the change, and clutched Snape's lapels to drag him closer. He was completely surrounded by the Potions Master- trapped securely between his legs and arms.

Harry opened his eyes to look at Snape, and sighed against the Slytherin's lips at the sight. All of Snape's attention was focused on him- it was a heady sense of power, Harry thought vaguely as his lids slid shut once more. The kiss was hardly more than lips moving together, now, and soon enough it wasn't even that anymore.

Snape pulled away, resting his forehead against Harry's own. Harry couldn't resist one more kiss and stole it from the older man, who allowed it only long enough to breathe something that might have been a chuckle, had Snape been a different man.

"I think that is enough… distraction for one night." Snape said ponderously, hand still cupping Harry's cheek.

"No," Harry disagreed, rubbing his face against the palm caressing him and pressing against the long body trapping him.

"Oh, I think it is enough," Snape responded swiftly, stepping away from Harry and looking elsewhere. Harry pouted- Snape's eyes flickered to his lips fast, almost too fast for Harry to see but he did, and deepened the pout, wondering what it was about his lips that so attracted Snape's attention, but also not really caring.

"Do not think you can tempt me anymore, foolish Gryffindor." Snape glared at Harry, but the insult was an endearment and Harry licked his lips instead.

"Are you sure?" He asked, and Snape nodded once, forcefully.

"Indeed." Snape stepped further away from the teen and gestured to the door. "Out, Potter. Because you were quite right before, and curfew has already passed."

"Well, we can't have student's wandering around the halls at night, can we?" Harry laughed, and dragged his hand through his hair. "Whatever." Harry sent Snape a heated glance and stretched, yawning widely, smiling inside as his un-tucked shirt rose past his midriff. The Potions Masters eyes burned him as they examined the teen's uncovered skin, and Harry finished his stretch far too early for the older man's taste.

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry hitched his bag up over his shoulder, and tossed his school robe over one arm. He looked back with one hand on the door, and grinned. Snape's eyes were fixated on the bruise he could feel blossoming across his neck, and heat began to simmer in the older man's eyes.

But Snape looked away sharply, and nodded once to Harry as the teen left the classroom. The hallway felt ridiculously cool to Harry's overly sensitized skin, but even that just made his grin wider. The Gryffindor did fix his collar, though, and re-don his school robes before anyone could come around a corner and see him.

But later- after he had regaled Hermione and Ron with tales of how horrible the First Year cauldron were, and was lying in bed- his hand crept up to his neck and played with the tender skin, recalling exactly how it had felt when Snape was attached to his neck, lips and teeth marking him and giving him sensations he had never even fantasized about before.

Harry fell asleep with the memory of Snape's body pressed against his front, with the unyielding shelving behind him, and the glint of desire in gleaming black eyes.


	3. Sugar Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while on a sugar rush from some after holiday sale :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will eventually write more to this story.   
> *Gred and Forge is a deliberate mutilation of Fred and George*

Harry grinned at Ron as the red-head sat with him in the Gryffindor common room. His friend grinned back, and both boys simultaneously toasted each other with their Butterbeers.

"Here's to Gred and Forge!" Harry cheered, and the packed room burst into applause as they also raised their glasses in the toast. "Helping us relax even from outside these stifling walls!"

As one, the gathered Gryffindor's downed their drinks, and went on partying. There was no reason for Fred and George to have sent their old House the amount of candy and butterbeer that they had- well, there was, but it was not common knowledge that the Gryffindor's were being carefully monitored by the 7th years to see the affect that the Weasley's twins concoctions would have- but Harry suspected that (in addition to testing their products) it was in apology for the… 'Mistletoe Incident'.

Not that the twins knew what had happened- they just assumed that Harry had needed to make a Slytherin undo the enchantment. But Fred- after he had finished laughing at Harry- had clapped the younger boy on the shoulder and promised that they would fix the charm so that it deteriorated after a certain amount of time.

Which Harry was happy enough to hear, and decided that he would graciously accept the overflowing bag of enchantment free candy George had sent over as an apology. The same bag which was now only about half-full, and which Harry was guarding quite closely. He'd shared some with Hermione and Ron, of course, but it was by far more amusing to watch them ingest charmed food.

But Harry was about done dealing with Gryffindors on a sugar high- even if he was one of them- and decided to try and walk off some of the false energy he had acquired from the candy. Hermione and Ron happily took over the un-cursed candy, delighting in the fact that he had given it over to them.

Harry ducked out of the Tower almost unnoticed, and the sudden, ringing silence when he shut the Fat Lady's portrait was almost deafening. He shook his head to clear it, and began to walk, aimlessly. He didn't really care where he wound up- it was almost midnight, after all, all the portraits should be asleep and the ghosts would be busy elsewhere- so the chances of him running into anyone were slim.

Harry slapped his hand against his forehead in disgust at himself. The Map and Cloak were still sitting under his pillow… but he guessed it didn't matter, really. He knew the paths that no one would walk, and set off to do exactly that.

He had only been walking for about ten or fifteen minutes when a slight sound alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone.

"Why does it not shock me to see you wandering the halls at this hour, Potter?" Snape's voice was dry and sarcastic, and after his initial heart attack, Harry turned around with a smile on his face.

"Because by now you expect it of me?" he suggested with a lazy smirk, and Snape merely snorted in agreement.

"That is most evidently true," the Potions Master said, and smirked at Harry in return. The darkness of the hallway was broken only by the light of the moon streaming in from the lone window, and all of the portraits in this hallway were asleep. Snape's smirk mutated into something darker, and he stalked towards Harry.

Harry grinned when Snape's hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and let himself be dragged towards the older man. Snape forced him up against the cold stone wall of the hallway, and clamped his other hand around Harry's hip. The Gryffindor wrapped his hands in the folds of Snape's robe, and smiled slyly up at the Slytherin from beneath his lashes.

They stood frozen in that position for an endless moment, and then Snape let a tiny sigh escape his lips. Harry tilted his head up slightly, and after another infinite second, the Slytherin leaned forward so their lips just barely touched.

Harry sighed in pleasure as his eyes slid shut. The kiss, barely more than a brush of lips, deepened, and Harry melted against Snape. The older man's lips were soft; gentle; and Harry moaned deep in his throat as the man pressed him closer to the wall. Snape abruptly pulled away, and eyed Harry suspiciously.

"I almost hesitate to say this…" Snape trailed off, and eyed the Gryffindor in his arms. "Exactly how much candy have you indulged in?"

Harry laughed, and resettled himself against his teacher's lean body. "Oh, you should know by now to not ask questions you're not sure you want an answer too." He dragged Snape's face back down to his, and pressed a quick kiss to still-frowning lips. "Relax. It's just Easter candy." He raised an eyebrow, and added, "Carefully checked for spells, given who they were from."

Harry laughed out loud at the look that came over Snape's face.

"After the previous incident, you trust those two devils?"

Harry grinned up at the Slytherin mischievously. "It helps to have a few well- placed threats up your sleeve, you know." He thought for a moment, and then added with another sly smile, "And it also helps to own most of their business."

Snape let a small chuckle slip past his lips, and leaned down to rest his forehead against the smaller Gryffindors. "I see."

He forestalled anything else Harry could say by planting another kiss to the teen's warm, pliant lips, and smirked at the moan of appreciation from the Gryffindor. He crowded Harry, stepping between the teens legs and forcing them wider. Harry tightened his grip on Snape's robes, hitching his body as close as was possible, and briefly frowned at the amount of clothing that stood between him and what he really wanted… skin on skin.

But Snape was doing such wonderful things with his tongue, and even as Harry burned from the need to be closer to the Slytherin Snape slid his hand from Harry's hip to the smooth muscles of his stomach. Harry gasped at the shock of cold fingers on his warm skin, and heaved in a gust of air. One of his hands released Snape's lapel to grab his belt and yank him closer. A dark chuckle escaped Snape's lips, and Harry breathed it in, intoxicated by the man before him.

Snape's hand travelled slowly upwards, and Harry's heart stuttered as the freezing hand glided right to his nipple. The shock of contact made him gasp once more; breaking the kiss and throwing his head back, leaving the pale length of his neck at Snape's mercy. And the Slytherin immediately moved his attention towards the revealed area, biting Harry's Adams apple and licking it, spreading little nipping kisses all over the naked skin.

"Fuck, Snape," Harry whispered hoarsely, and shifted his hips against the older mans, dying for another form of contact. The Slytherin raised his head as an absolutely wicked smirk touched his lips, and he moved until his lips just barely touched Harry's ear.

"Not quite yet, I think," he whispered back, and chuckled darkly as Harrys eyes squeezed shut, the mere  _idea_ of such a thing making him jerk his hips helplessly against Snape.

"You're going to kill me," Harry complained breathlessly, opening his eyes to see the Slytherin watching him intently, and forced a smile onto his lips. "Saying things like that."

Snape ducked his head back down and claimed Harry's lips once more in a fierce kiss, hand gliding around to Harry's back and down, to rest where his belt was. "I believe the idea is to kill you with actions, and not merely words." His eyes glinted with amusement, and Harry shuddered. "Although that is something I would like to try."

Harry bit his bottom lip, moaning as Snape's hand moved even lower. He freed both of his hands from where they had been gripping his teachers clothing and grabbed the man's face, forcing him down for another kiss, threading his fingers through soft, silky black hair. Snape allowed him to do so, and cupped Harry's arse with one strong hand, the other moving down to urge a leg to wrap around his waist.

He thrust his hips gently against the teen now writhing in his arms, and Harry drew back just enough to mutter unintelligibly under his breath. Snape dropped his head until it rested on the Gryffindor's shoulder, and Harry's hands wandered until they gripped the Potion's Masters waist. They rocked back and forth, Harry staring sightless at the ceiling as Snape thrust against him; a slow, steady pace that was setting Harry's blood to boiling.

"Jesus Christ," Harry gasped, and for one moment took control of the steady motion to jerk against Snape as hard as he could. The resulting explosion of sensation burst behind his eyes as though fireworks had gone off, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his breath stuttered in his lungs. Snape pulled back, one eyebrow raised, and just watched Harry for a second as the teen struggled to regain his control.

"Dear me, Mr. Potter," Snape intoned, his voice and tone speaking something that was the complete opposite of what his body was saying. "It seems you're a bit over-eager."

"Over-eager?" Harry gasped, struggling to get back into the rhythm that Snape had had going, but held still by the Slytherins implacable grasp. "Given what you're doing to me, it seemed like I was allowed to be 'over-eager'."

Snape smirked, and rocked against Harry once more, slowly. The teen gasped, the tendons in his neck standing out for a moment and catching Snape's eye. He leaned down, watching the Gryffindor carefully, and licked a long, thick stripe from the teen's collarbone to his ear. Harry writhed in his grasp, wordlessly demanding more, and Snape just chuckled into the other's ear.

"I think that's enough for now," he whispered, his lips brushing against the teen's earlobe and biting softly. "You do have an early day tomorrow." He pulled away from Harry completely; even as his own body protested letting go of the smaller man, and smirked at the sight Harry made. The Gryffindor's clothing was ruffled- shirt wrinkled and untucked- hair even more wild than normal, bright red marks blossoming on his neck where Snape has paid particular attention, and the large, oh so tempting tent in his pants that the Slytherins eyes could hardly stray from.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Harry demanded, panting to get his breath back, and narrowed his eyes at his Professor. "You're just going to walk away and leave me like this?"

"Oh, do lower your voice, unless you wish the portraits to wake up," Snape replied, but the smirk on his face died as he watched Harry. One of the Gryffindor's hands was travelling around his body, and there was no question of where it was going. Snape moved before Harry could touch himself, gripping the wandering hand by the wrist and slamming it on the wall over Harry's head, using his own hand to hold it there.

The Gryffindor chuckled, and rocked against Snape once more, even as a triumphant smirk stole over his lips.

"Devious Gryffindor," Snape murmured, and couldn't help it as his lips turned upwards in an unwilling smile.

"I learned from the best," Harry breathed, tilting his head up to steal a quick kiss.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Snape snapped out, but relented as beautiful red lips began to turn down into a pout. He pressed kisses to them, ignoring the triumph still present in emerald eyes. "However," he began, pulling away from his temptation, "I am going to call a halt."

Harry pouted, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and worrying it. "Why?" he asked, his voice husky as he pulled Snape back to him.

"Because this is a hallway, foolish Gryffindor, and I much prefer my bed to a stone wall." Snape bit out, watching as the teen processed his words.

"I can very much get behind that idea, whole-heartedly," Harry murmured, his eyes sliding shut as he thought about it. "Oh, yes." His arms wrapped around Snape's shoulders and the Slytherin didn't even attempt to resist being brought back to those gorgeous lips.

"You are impossible." Snape commented as he pulled back, and glared half-heartedly at the Gryffindor gracing his arms.

"And you  _love_  it," Harry drew out the word, and chuckled as Snape's eyes followed the motions of his lips. He leaned up, and whispered into the Potions Masters ear, "If you don't let go of me, I'm going to follow you to your bed."

Snape's jaw clenched at the thought, and he pressed one more kiss, almost viciously, to Harry's lips. "Unfortunately, my foolish Gryffindor, as much as that idea appeals to me, we are going to go our separate ways tonight."

Neither moved, and Harry huffed a laugh after a long moment. "If you say so…" he said, and grinned up at the Slytherin. "It doesn't look like you want to let go."

Snape drank in the sight of the teen in his arms, took a fortifying breath, and stepped back, gently untangling himself from Harry. "Goodnight, Mr. Potter." He said, and watched as Harry reluctantly began to try to make himself look presentable.

"Goodnight, Professor Snape," Harry replied, and smiled hungrily as he took in the sight of his usually impeccably dressed teacher, rumpled with mussed hair. "Sleep well."

"I believe I shall have the most excellent sleep," Snape said, and raised a brow. "Now, off with you. It would be a shame if a teacher were to catch you out of the dorms at this hour."

Harry laughed, "It would indeed," he agreed, and turned his back on Snape as he began the walk back to Gryffindor Tower.

Snape waited until Harry was well and truly gone before he turned to leave, and came face-to-face with an astonished portrait.

" _Obliviate!"_  he snapped out, and the incredulous look of the portrait turned into the usual vacant expression of the freshly  _Obliviated_. Perversely, this cheered Snape up, and he began the walk back to his rooms with the faintest hint of what might possibly be a smile dancing on the edge of his lips.


	4. Kitchen Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A case of the midnight munchies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a loooooooooooong time since I've written anything new in this story, so please forgive inaccuracies! And there's finally some sort of real smut, so that's nice hey?

Harry woke up starving.

He frowned blearily at his glasses, wondering if it was even worth the effort to get out of bed and walk all the way to the kitchen when he had to be up in- he quickly checked the time- six hours. But the next growl from his stomach convinced him to get up, so he took a deep breath and threw back his covers. The teen cursed softly as the cool air hit him, grabbing for his glasses from the nightstand and reaching for the sweater tossed over the end of his bed.

He stood, shoving his feet into slippers and sliding his wand into his back pocket. After a moments indecision he grabbed the Map from his trunk and began shuffling to the kitchens.

There were a few late night partiers still up and about in the Common Room, though half of them were beginning to pass out and the other half were obviously desperately trying to stay awake. Harry just chuckled, knowing he would be among them if he didn’t have Quidditch practice at 8 a.m.

But the hallways were empty, and even the Fat Lady was asleep when he exited the tower. Harry briefly checked the Map before heading out.

-

Dobby stood over Harry protectively, eyeing the other House Elves whenever they got too close.

“Is there anything else Mister Potter will be needing?” the elf asked, holding a skillet in one hand as he waited. Harry took one more bite of the omelet before pushing the plate away from him.

“Oh, Merlin no Dobby, you’ve stuffed me to the brim.” Harry laughed, and gestured to his stomach. “If I eat anything else I’m going to explode.” The Gryffindor had completely blanked on the fact that the House Elves would try to feed him a full meal, but he wasn’t going to complain. “I really appreciate this, Dobby, it’s really late, or well early, but you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Dobby beamed with pleasure. “You know it’s no trouble at all Mister Potter! None at all!”

Harry grinned back. “You’re way too good to me, Dobby.” He stood and collected his things. “But I’ll get out of your way now.” He bowed elaborately to the elf, who cackled in glee.

“Goodnight Mister Potter, sir!” Dobby saluted, almost cracking a nearby elf in the head with the skillet still in his hand, and bowed back happily.

Harry tried to hide his smile as he shoved both Map and wand into his back pocket once more, but as Dobby straightened up a silence fell over the kitchen, and the usually mirthful elf’s face lost all trace of emotion.

Harry turned, startled by the sudden change in the demeanor of the elves, and came face to face with Snape.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled, eyes glittering in the bright light of the kitchen. “Out after curfew, _again_.”

“Ah, hello Professor Snape…” the teen stammered, caught off guard. “I was just… going back to my tower?” he finished lamely, and Snape sniffed.

“I see. Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, and I will escort you to your Common Room so I am assured you do not lose your way.” Snape moved to the entrance of the kitchen, turning back with a raised brow as Harry didn’t follow him immediately.

The Gryffindor muttered one last _thank you_ to Dobby before darting out past Snape and into the hallway. The doorknob resolved itself once more into a painting of a bowl of fruit as Harry watched, and he turned to his professor with a sigh.

“Do you not keep food in your rooms, Potter?” Snape asked, eyeing the student curiously, before turning to walk down the hall that would lead to the Tower.

“Usually, yeah. But I went through it this week and forgot to get more,” Harry explained, falling into step next to the Potion’s Master now that it was clear he wasn’t in too much trouble. “But I was starving when I woke up. I didn’t think I’d be that long, just a quick nip in to nab some food before I headed back.”

Snape was silent as Harry spoke, and when he had finished a corner of the Professors lip turned up into something like a smile. “Your House Elf would never let you escape easily nor fast, Potter.”

Harry sighed, and ran his hand through his hair in resignation. “Well, I’ll blame that on being tired.” he said, and glanced up at his professor through his lashes. Snape was watching the corridor in front of them intensely, thoughts obviously directed towards catching another wayward student. Harry took his professors distraction and checked the Map quickly, noting that there was no one anywhere near them and replacing the Map in his pocket before Snape noticed.

The Gryffindor pursed his lips, contemplating the thought that had just raced through his mind and wondering if he was stupid enough to do it. _Fuck it_ , Harry thought, and shrugged to himself. There was an alcove coming up on their walk that had no portraits and the few in this hallway were asleep. _What’s the worst that can happen, anyway?_ He wondered, then quickly emptied his mind before he came up with something awful.

The Gryffindor waited the few steps until they were about to draw even with the alcove, and then brushed his hand against Snape’s, quickly drawing it away.

The Potion’s Master stopped walking immediately and looked down at his hand, and then at the teen. Harry smiled and cocked his head to the side. The professor drew himself up to his full height as he stared down at the Gryffindor, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over the skin that Harry had touched.

“Do you not have Quidditch practice in a few hours?” He asked, voice free of any inflection that might let Harry know what he was thinking.

Harry blushed, visible even in the dim and shadows, and shrugged his shoulders, riffling a hand through his hair.

“Well, it’s not like they have much for me to do,” he said, “it’s usually just ‘Yea, just keep an eye out for the Snitch mate’.” Harry looked away from Snape, missing the way his professor’s usually cold eyes swept down his body, latching onto the patch of skin briefly visible at his waist, and began to walk back to the tower.

A strong hand gripped his bicep and stopped him. Harry turned to look up at Snape in question, only to find the older man sweeping his eyes up and down the corridor. He pushed Harry into the alcove, slashing his wand at the entrance and casting a handful of spells before turning all of his attention to the student before him.

“What happened to-” Harry began to ask, but was cut off by lips meeting his with bruising force. He grinned against silky lips and buried both hands in the front of Snape’s robes, letting the older man press him up against the wall.

The Slytherin pulled away after a moment, and raised an arched brow at the teen. “I have been known to change my mind.”

Harry freed one of his hands and wrapped it around the taller man’s neck, dragging him closer. “Well, next time,” he muttered against Snape’s lips, “how about just telling me?”

Both of Snape’s brows arched at Harry’s tone, and he found and trapped both of Harry’s wrists with his hands and forced them over the Gryffindor’s head. “You do not tell me what to do,” he stated, then smirked. “Not unless you’re begging.”

All the annoyance that Harry had been beginning to feel fled at that sentence, and instead he was filled with hot, flushing need. “ _Fuck_ ,” Harry whispered violently, and threw his head against the wall, staring at Snape with blown pupils and parted lips.

“No,” the Slytherin chuckled, and transferred both of Harry’s wrists into one hand. “I believe I implied that that would take place in a bed.” He took the teen’s momentary distraction to tip Harry’s chin up and expose his neck, lowering his head to press his lips to his pounding pulse. His free hand wandered down the Gryffindor’s body, and Harry sucked in a breath as freezing fingers danced across his abdomen, already tucked up under his shirt.

He let his head fall back as Snape’s lips whispered along his neck, barely touching but exploring everywhere, eyes sliding shut as a thumb smoothed along his hip bone. Harry inhaled sharply as his professor bit down on his collarbone, jolting with the sensation. Snape’s hand tightened on his hip, bound to leave bruises but Harry found he didn’t really give a damn when the professor’s lips were doing _that._

The older man released Harry’s wrists, and used both of his hands to force the teen further into the wall, crowding into him and coming in full contact for the first time in more than a week. He left Harry’s neck reluctantly, leaving a blossoming bruise that would no doubt begin to ache in a short while. Harry turned his face towards his professor, opening his eyes and leaning up and into warm lips. The Gryffindor’s hands travelled along Snape’s lean body, dipping inside his robe and coming to rest at his waist, fingering plucking at where his shirt was tucked in.

Harry took Snape’s lack of protest as permission, and swiftly untucked the professor’s shirt, sliding his hands along tight skin for the first time. His professor pulled away from the kiss to stare at him, and Harry smiled, not stopping his hands from tracing muscles he couldn’t yet see.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the teen, though he turned his attention elsewhere. Harry’s warm hands explored his abdomen, hips, and waist and the Slytherin shut his eyes briefly as he envisioned a different scenario. But he turned his attention towards Harry once again, determined, and shoved his hands beneath the Gryffindor’s waist band as he once against pressed his lips to Harry’s.

Harry gasped; Snape’s hands had only slightly warmed up but they were gripping him firmly in an area no one had ever touched before and his grip on the professor’s waist tightened. He moaned into the kiss, dragging Snape’s hips against his and rocking against him as the other man explored. Snape knocked Harry’s legs further apart and crushed the two of them even closer together, reveling in the hands that had travelled to his back and were now holding onto him. His own hands were full of Harry- digging his fingers into the teens arse and grabbing handfuls of firm skin, bunching the cloth of his pants up under his trousers.

The Gryffindor broke free of the kiss, panting for air and stared wide-eyed at Snape. Harry was burning up from the inside, legs trembling from the weight of the need coursing through him.

“ _Shit,_ ” Harry bit out, dropping his head onto Snape’s shoulder, bowing his back and shaking at the sensations. “Please, for fucks sake, Snape!”

“What do you want me to do, Harry?” Snape whispered silkily into the teen’s ear, breath hot against already burning skin. Harry’s hands clenched onto the smooth skin of Snape’s back at the sound of his given name, hips jerking fiercely against the Slytherin’s as his breath shuddered in his throat.

“Fuck, shit.” Harry panted, taking his head away from the crook of Snape’s neck to drop it against the wall. “Something. _Anything_.”

“Well, since you ask so nicely.”

Harry could barely form a smile at the sarcasm, his lips quivering at the sight his professor made.

Snape withdrew one hand from the back of Harry’s trousers, ignoring the pout at the action, and reached around the front to undo a few buttons of the teen’s trousers. He paused, thoughtfully, eyeing the bulge he could just see, but after a few moments he shook his head. Although he did graze his knuckles over the tent in Harry’s pants, Snape tucked his fingertips into the waistband and gently moved his hand back to where it was before, palming the skin of Harry’s hip as he sank his hand into the teen’s pants.

Harry withdrew a hand from under Snape’s shirt, using it instead to latch onto the older man’s neck, sinking his hand into the hair at the base of the man’s skull. He quivered, afraid to move, breath coming in gasps as he felt the Slytherin’s other hand rise out of his trousers only to move to skin on skin as well. Although the Potion’s Master moved gently, every new touch made Harry jump, jerking into the sensation and only increasing his already all-consuming need.

Snape explored slowly, monitoring how the Gryffindor was reacting, and smiled sharply to himself. The long fingers of one hand began to move, tracing patterns into Harry’s skin but obviously with a destination in mind. Snape’s other hand held fast, massaging the globe of flesh and opening up the path. Harry’s heart beat even harder in his chest as a finger traced up and down the seam of his arse, followed by another, and then a third.

Snape began to move rhythmically against the teen now and Harry hissed, jolting up and into the motion as the Slytherin’s long fingers touched him.

He stared up at his professor, flushed and panting, and Snape smiled benignly at the sight. His fingers circled Harry’s rim, and the teen gasped, pulling himself impossibly closer to the older man and wrapping his leg around Snape’s waist, unintentionally giving the professor better access.

Snape laughed quietly and pressed a kiss to the Gryffindor’s lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently. Harry moaned, overflowing with sensation and turned the bite into another kiss, open mouthed and sloppy, writhing against his professor. Snape’s rhythm never faltered, dragging Harry to the edge and holding him there, trembling, needing a push but never quite giving it to him.

“ _Please_ , Snape, please,” Harry tore his mouth from the Slytherin’s long enough to stare into brilliant black eyes for a moment before returning to the mouth he was addicted to.

Snape smirked into the kiss, reveling in the fact that he had Potter completely at his mercy, and thrust against Harry harder, rubbing his fingers over the teen’s hole. Harry cried out in shock into Snape’s mouth as he came, shuddering against his professor uncontrollably. The Slytherin did not stop until Harry was completely finished, shaking and sobbing in breaths as his heart beat slowly began to return to normal.

Snape withdrew his hands from Harry’s pants, resting one on the teen’s waist and using the other to lift the Gryffindor’s lips back to his, pressing a kiss to them that Harry blindly returned.

“We’ll have to work on that,” he noted, and Harry finally opened his eyes.

“What?” Confused emerald eyes cleared up as they stared into onyx ones. “Oh. Yes.” He agreed, and looked down at the front of Snape’s trousers, where a sizable bulge was still pressed against him. He began to move a hand down to try and help, but Snape stopped him quickly.

“No,” his professor said, and lifted a corner of his lip up in a smile. “I will take care of it.”

“I want to, though,” Harry argued, and tried to move, but Snape did not release him

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I will make sure you return the favor at another point.” Snape pulled away, and with a whispered word Harry was no longer a mess. “But unfortunately you and I both have things we need to accomplish today.”

Harry hesitated, but nodded. “Next time?” He asked, trying to keep hope out of his voice.

“Next time indeed,” Snape answered, and dismissed the spells hiding them away. Harry turned and quickly kissed the older man one more time, smiling brightly against the thin lips before he pulled away.


End file.
